


Magnet

by headrush100



Series: Free Will [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headrush100/pseuds/headrush100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in the ‘Free Will’ series. Holly, a twelve year old potential, begins a new life. This story is currently followed by ‘A Common Bond’, ‘Passage’, ‘Interval, and ‘Free Will’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnet

Henley on Thames, England.

 

The doorbell rang. 

Up in her bedroom, Holly closed the door on the sound of her mother greeting Mr Giles.

She picked up her father’s worn old copy of ‘The Eagle of the Ninth’, carefully wrapped it in a soft t-shirt, and sandwiched it in the middle of her new suitcase. She was saving it to read when she got there. There was room in the case for maybe one last thing. Holly scanned the room until her eye fell – again – on Tiger, the stuffed tiger her mother had given her on her third birthday, when they’d taken her to the zoo for the first time. She hadn’t spent a night without him since. He was small, and squishable, and no one would know she still slept with stuffed animals, but he would be there.

She stayed in her room until her mother came to get her, and they both burst into tears. 

***

On the train between Twyford and Reading.

 

“Hello, it’s Rupert Giles here.”

“Yes. Yes, thank you. I was wondering if I could have a word with Megan, if she’s about.” 

“Thank you.”

A few moments later, he smiled. “Hello, you.” 

He looked puzzled. “Willow called you?”

“Yes, well, she happened to see me when I came in the door.”

“I’m all right.” He glanced at Holly. “I can’t… I’ve a potential with me and I don’t want to…” 

“Yes, but she’s only twelve, and I’ve literally just collected her from her parents.”

“I don’t know. Chest. Back. Yes, the front is Willow’s bloody burn again. The back was a Bringer in San Francisco the day before last. Picked me up and threw me into a pile of wooden crates. Bloody stupid thing, I don’t know why I didn’t react more quickly…”

“I only got back in the country yesterday.”

“Tomorrow.”

“I know, but Robson called and said it was urgent. Her life was in danger and there was no one else…”

He sighed impatiently. “Well, that’s the way it goes, darling.”

“I’m on the train. We’re on our way to Buffy’s, but I was wondering if I might stop off and see you first. I’m feeling a bit...”

He smiled, but it wasn’t an amused smile. “You could say that.”

He looked at his watch. “Hour and a half; maybe less. It’s a fast train to Westbury.”

Holly couldn’t help listening as Mr Giles had a totally bizarre conversation with the woman on the phone. 

This was crazy. Even after what happened, Holly couldn’t believe her parents had actually signed papers allowing some stranger to take her away. What he’d told her and her parents about being special, in a way it confirmed what she’d always felt but never understood, and that was reassuring. Even so, she felt sickened, angry and betrayed. She wasn’t stupid enough to think they didn’t love her, or thought she was a freak, or would send her off with a pervert, but still. 

She had to be dying before Mum would even let her miss a day of school; now she wasn’t even *going* to school anymore. Unless she went to one in California, but no one had said anything about that. She wasn’t sorry to be out of school, but the fact that Mum was allowing it meant that she believed it when Mr Giles told them that their lives were in danger, and if Mum and Dad believed it, it was true. Despite her hissed warnings not to, Mum had told Mr Giles about the man in long black robes that had chased her until she collapsed inside the front door, shaking and unable to speak for hours.

Mum and Daddy trusted Mr Giles enough to let her go with him; and if they trusted him, she should too. Of course, he’d acted okay when he’d picked her up, but as soon as they got on the train it was a different story, so what was that about?

Plus, her parents weren’t sitting here listening to the conversation he was having right now. Those things were chasing him too – he’d told them so – so how did being with him make her any safer?

Beside her, Mr Giles shifted around in his seat with an expression like something was really hurting him. He was pale, and she’d had to help him get their bags onto the luggage rack, while hiding the fact that her arm really hurt. She was young and fast. The next time the train pulled into a station, she could be out the door before he was out of his seat. 

“Holly.”

He was looking at her. When had he got off the phone? 

“How’s your arm?”

“Huh?”

“The way you’re holding it. Is it sore?”

She flushed, and blinked away the memory of the man with black robes and sewn-up eyes, of running until she was sure she’d fall down and he’d have her. “No, it’s okay.”

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded to the food cart. “Want anything to eat? We’ve got a way to go yet.”

She shook her head. Food was the last thing she wanted, but when the cart came past he bought her a sandwich and a packet of crisps anyway. 

Anger gave her courage. “I don’t want anything from you.” They were the first words she’d spoken since leaving home.

He looked taken aback for a moment, but recovered quickly. “I see.”

“Where are we going? Heathrow’s in the other direction.”

“We’re going to Westbury first, to see a friend of mine called Megan Jones. She lives at a coven.”

A what? “A coven?” Did her mother know he was taking her to a coven? Wait till she told Isabella. 

“She’s a witch.” He smiled slightly at her expression. “Probably not the kind of witch you have in mind. She has powerful mystical energies, but her chief talents are intellectual and medicinal.” 

“So, she’s, like, a healer?” She was, reluctantly, interested.

He nodded.

“Like Elrond?”

“Elrond.”

“In Lord of the Rings. When he cures Frodo from the poisoned dagger. Is that what she’s going to do to you?” She knew her tone was challenging, bordering on rude, but was too churned up to care.

“Something like that.”

She couldn’t tell if he was just humouring her. “How? I mean, how does she do it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s a gift she has.”

“Is she better than a doctor?” 

“Sometimes. I’ve known Megan almost all my life. She’s saved my life more than once. She knows what we’re up against, and I trust her completely.” 

There was something in his voice, and the memory of the way he’d spoken to the woman on the phone that made her blurt, “Because she’s your girlfriend?” He did give her a sharp look then, and she lapsed back into silence.

After a moment he said, “We have a complicated relationship, but yes, that’s part of it.”

“She must be smart.”

“Why?”

Duh. “Because you are.” 

He smiled. “She is smart. She couldn’t do what she does, otherwise.”

“Do I have mystical energies?” Whatever *they* were. It sounded like magic of some sort.

“No. It’s very unlikely.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know I don’t?” She was pushing her luck, she knew, especially since he wasn’t feeling well.

“If you did, I would sense it. Besides which, you’re a potential, and potentials simply don’t, as a rule. I’m a watcher, and watchers do.”

“As a rule?” 

“As a rule. There’s always the odd exception, of course, but it’s quite rare.” 

She was starting to get the feeling that although he didn’t say much, what he did say was the truth, and was curious despite herself. Like her father said, knowledge was power, and she needed all the power she could get right now. “What can you do with your mystical energies?”

“Holly…”

“Please, I won’t tell anyone.”

“No, I can’t – “

“So, it’s like magic? Could you, like, kill someone with it?”

He turned to freeze her with a look. “*Enough*.” She stared at him as his expression collapsed into something else, and he wrapped his arms around himself, winced, and changed position again. “Sorry. Later, all right?”

He thought that just because he was a grownup, he didn’t have to tell her anything, and that wasn’t fair. She didn’t understand any of this. He’d explained all about slayers and potentials and vampires and demon priests and the fate of the world and it was all lies. It had to be all lies, because none of that stuff could possibly exist, and even if it did, she was twelve years old, she didn’t know anything, couldn’t do anything, and there was no way she could do anything about any of it. What happened last week was a freak, and she just wanted to get on the next train going in the opposite direction; the whole thing made her feel like throwing up.

He took a deep breath. It was what adults always did when they were about to lecture you. 

“I know this is very difficult – ”

“No you don’t!” Holly got out of her seat and made it to the bathroom just in time to keep him from seeing her burst into tears.

***

Westbury.

Mr Giles got worse and worse as time went on. He was pale as anything, and his eyes looked even more bloodshot than they had when he’d picked her up a couple of hours ago. Holly gave him her bottle of water, but it didn’t seem to help. By the time the train finally pulled into Westbury, he couldn’t get out of his seat. He was really scaring her. If he was dying, what should she do? What would happen to her? The train would be moving on before they could get off, at this rate. 

“Get the bags,” he gasped. “Get off the train… Tell Megan…”

She turned to obey. As she went to chuck the bags onto the platform, she ran straight into a woman with wavy, messy hair, muddy walking boots, and jeans. There was no doubt she was a witch. Holly didn’t know how she knew it, but she did.

The woman cocked her head. “Potential?”

Holly nodded and said rather desperately, “Are you Megan?”

The woman came aboard and squinted into the carriage. “Guilty. Where is he?” 

Holly pointed. Megan nodded. She stuck her head out the door and said something to the guard, then came back in and sat in the seat opposite Mr Giles. She talked to him for a second. All Holly could catch of what she said was a muttered, affectionate, “For fuck’s sake, darling.” Megan put his arm across her shoulders. She helped him to his feet and off the train, past staring passengers and the annoyed-looking guard.

By the time they reached the station car park, Holly had discovered that witches dressed and swore like normal people, but that might just be a trick. Megan seemed like someone you wanted to stay on the right side of. Witches also drove dark red SUVs. Mr Giles lay across the back seat. At first she could hear him cursing softly, but now he was quiet. Holly sat in the front seat, gripping the door handle while Megan drove down single track country lanes like a bat out of hell.

Megan pointed to the flap in the dashboard. “There’s a mobile in there. Would you turn it on, press number one and the ‘send’ button, then hand it to me.” 

It was one of those questions that was an order, and Holly did as she was told. She closed her eyes as Megan steered the big vehicle while carrying on a conversation with someone about getting a room set up. 

“You know it’s illegal to talk on the phone while you’re driving,” Holly said quietly, trying to keep the car on the road through sheer effort of will. 

“Yes, I do know that.” Megan glanced at Mr Giles through the rear view mirror. “However, sometimes you have to break the rules.” She slammed on the brakes and simultaneously flung an arm backwards to try to keep Mr Giles from being thrown off the seat as they rounded a bend and met a tractor. Megan swore under her breath and Holly closed her eyes as they overtook it.

She was greatly relieved when they turned off the main road and into a long gravelled drive. They pulled up in front of an old stone farmhouse with huge stone horse troughs planted full of bright red geraniums like her mother grew at home. Even before Holly had her seat belt off, a bunch of people had come out of the house and were getting Mr Giles out of the back. He looked like he was trying really hard not to make a noise, and she did feel kind of sorry for him. Everyone was talking at once, and no one was paying attention to her. She followed them into the entrance hall, but not upstairs. 

She carefully pushed open the door to her right, revealing a small room that would have been elegant if it hadn’t been exploding with books and papers. For a moment, she relaxed. Books, like animals, were friends. Automatically, she scanned the built-in shelves. The books were arranged by subject, the shelves neatly labelled. Botany. Herbology. Biology. Spells. Charms. Runes. Local history. UK history. World history. Atlases. Maps. Foreign language dictionaries. Ancient language dictionaries. Animal husbandry. Weather. Astronomy. Gardening. Chinese medicine. Complementary medicine. Gray’s Anatomy. Mathematics. She stepped back into the hall and tried the door on the other side. This too, was lined with books, but more fiction than facts. Anyone who had this many books had to be intelligent and interesting. 

She didn’t want to be interested in Megan, or Mr Giles. They had taken her away from Mum and Dad, and her house and her friends and her life.

“Where’s the kid?” 

Megan’s voice on the landing startled her, and she hurried back into the foyer. “Um, down here,” said Holly.

“Get up here,” she said, commanding but not unkind. “Sorry, I haven’t even asked your name.”

“Holly.”

“Right. Come on up, Holly. I need to ask you some questions. Quick, quick.”

***

Her head still reeling from the emotion and disorientation of the past few hours, Holly ran up the stairs and down the hall and into a small bedroom where Mr Giles was sitting on the bed. The people who’d brought him in were all leaving, and the last one out shut the door behind him.

Megan beckoned her over. “Come here. Just stand by him, in case he falls over.”

“I’m not going to fall over,” he muttered.

“I know you’re not, love; we’ll make sure of it.”

Slowly, Holly went to Mr Giles’s side and lightly held onto his shoulder while Megan started unbuttoning his shirt. She’d never watched a woman take a man’s shirt off before, except in movies, and it felt really weird. There was a bright red burn on Mr Giles’s chest, and masses of cuts and bruises everywhere else. 

“What happened to him?” she said quietly, not really expecting an answer. Was this what happened when those priest things caught you? She felt as though she was trapped in a nightmare. Everything felt unreal. How could this actually be happening?

“You were sitting by him when he phoned me, weren’t you?” said Megan, opening a first aid box. 

“Yeah.”

“Did he tell you any more than he told me?”

“No.” Which was his own stupid fault. She’d *wanted* to know more, even if she’d been too upset to ask. He really looked bad. She couldn’t help staring at the angry wound. “Did the… the Bringers do that?” Her stomach flipped at the memory of the ones that had chased her home from school. 

When Mr Giles looked up, Holly met his eyes for the first time since they’d left her house. He looked incredibly tired, and pretty confused. 

“What?”

Megan brushed her fingers lightly through his hair. “The burn, love.” She glanced at Holly. “No, a friend did that to him.” She put a couple of jars on the bed, muttering, “Cantharis… hypericum.”

“A *friend*?” Someone he *knew* did that?

Mr Giles seemed to wake up a little. “Willow.” 

“What about her?”

“Is she all right?”

“As far as I know. Didn’t you see her before you left Sunnydale?”

He frowned, and nodded. “I forgot.”

She touched him gently on the shoulder. “Quick examination now, yeah?”

He nodded again.

“You seem a bit confused, though the exhaustion may be to blame for that. Did you hit your head when you landed in that pile of crates?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“No.”

“Dizzy?”

“A bit.” He gave a pained smile. “But I think that’s from your driving.”

Megan started looking in his eyes, and feeling around his head. “You all right with Holly being here? I’d like to ask her some questions.”

He glanced up at Holly and blinked as though he’d forgotten she was there. “Yes.” He looked at her again. “Unless she’d rather not watch.”

“I don’t mind,” said Holly. “My dad’s a vet and my mother’s a physiotherapist. I’ve seen a lot of disgusting stuff.” To her surprise, Megan laughed, and Mr Giles almost smiled. Actually, she didn’t find it disgusting at all, but acknowledged such things in that way because none of her friends could understand how she could be fascinated to watch her dad doing surgery, or assist him when he went out to treat cows and horses. When she was little she thought what he did was like a miracle, saving animals’ lives and easing their pain. Recently he’d been starting to show her how he did it, and she loved it. She was starting to think she wanted to be a vet too. Could she still do that now, or would they make her do this potential thing forever?

“Okay, good,” said Megan. “Although we’ll strive to keep the ‘disgusting’ factor to a minimum.” She moved round to sit behind Mr Giles. “Did he lose consciousness at all, when you were on the train?”

“No.” Holly felt a bit guilty now, about running off to the bathroom and leaving him. He might have gone unconscious and she hadn’t known it. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t with him the whole time.”

“Where were you?”

“In the bathroom.” 

“How long?”

Holly felt her face warm. “Kind of a long time.”

After a moment’s pause, Megan nodded. “Did he complain of any particular pain?”

She shook her head.

“You can ask *me*, you know,” said Mr Giles. “I’m not that far gone.”

Megan smiled. “I know. I just like to have all the information I can.”

Holly watched Mr Giles’s face as Megan’s hands moved over him. When she hurt him, he didn’t usually say anything, but she seemed to know, because she apologised. 

“What’re you doing now?” said Holly, curious despite herself. This was more interesting than when Elrond healed Frodo. Maybe because she’d never imagined such a thing could happen in real life.

“I’m looking for broken bones and other internal injuries.”

“How?”

“A degree of medical training, a lot of practical experience.”

“I mean, how do you do it without, like, x-rays and stuff?”

Megan shook her head. “It’s not easy to explain. I have… what I guess you’d call a heightened sense of intuition in some ways. It also helps that Giles and I have known one another a long time, and I’m very familiar with the feel of his energies when he’s well, so I have a basis for comparison when he’s not well. Energies normally flow freely throughout the body, but if their channels are blocked by pain or trauma, they can’t do that.” 

Giles swayed, and swore under his breath. Megan made him lie down, and undid his belt and the first few buttons on his jeans so that she could press around his middle. Holly was embarrassed for him, but it didn’t stop her looking. 

“Just out of curiosity, how many countries have you been to in the last two weeks?” said Megan. Holly wondered if she was trying to distract him.

“Dunno. Seven, eight.”

“All of those trips were to find potentials?”

He nodded. 

“And you’re supposed to be heading back to California tomorrow?”

Another nod.

“And then?”

“And then I’m off to China.”

“You’re joking.” Off his look she said, more gently, “Giles, you have to take a break. It’s too much.”

“I know.”

“So you’ll do it.”

“As soon as I can.”

“It needs to be now.”

He didn’t reply, and she didn’t push him any more. She continued to check him over. He kept still, except for when it hurt too much, and Holly sat, cradling her bad arm and keeping quiet so as not to be a nuisance.

“You’ll be all right,” Megan said at last. “You’ve taken a mighty hammering; there are two broken ribs, as well as any number of damaged muscles, and some spectacular bruising. You’re not concussed; I suppose we should be grateful for small mercies. There are some nasty cuts on your back where I’m guessing you fell against the edges of the crates. The burn’s flared up because you’re exhausted and run down, and it’s never had a chance to heal properly. Other than that, you’re in good shape.”

Holly liked the way Megan could be funny and serious at the same time; it was interesting.

“But it’s all right,” he said.

“It will be, if you give it a chance. But not if you carry on like this.”

He nodded vaguely, and Holly wondered if he’d heard what Megan said. 

“Good.”

“No, not good, Giles. Given the dangers you’re facing at the moment, this kind of exhaustion could get you killed. Didn’t you say on the phone that your reactions were slowed down, and that was the reason you didn’t escape the Bringer? When did you last have a break, or even a decent night’s sleep?”

He didn’t reply. 

“Well, you’ll have one tonight, and we can argue about tomorrow, tomorrow.”

He turned a smile on her that made Holly grin in recognition. It was halfway between charming and contrite; the exact same tactic she herself had been known to use. 

“Please, like that’s going to work,” said Megan. But Holly could tell it had worked, all right.

“Back to your question about how the healing works,” Megan went on, “you remember what I said about energy circulates freely in the body, unless there’s something wrong?”

Holly nodded. 

“Well, it then follows that in areas where energies are very disrupted, there’s likely to be a significant injury. I have the ability to get the channel open again, and to manipulate that energy; to calm or stimulate it to the point where the body can heal itself very quickly. Does that make sense?”

Holly nodded, still trying to wrap her brain around the whole ‘mystical energies’ thing. She didn’t know they even *existed*, at least in a mystical form, whatever that was, until today, let alone that they could be blocked or unblocked. And then she remembered.

“Can I try something?”

“Such as?”

“Reflexology. My mum showed me how to do it. It might help the pain.” She knew they’d be unlikely to believe that she really knew how to do it.

Holly and Megan looked at one another for a moment, till Megan said, “Did you hear that, Giles? Holly’s offering to give you some reflexology to help the pain while I work on you. How do you feel about that? It can’t do any harm, unless you have some injury to your feet that we don’t know about.”

Holly warmed. Megan had said “we”, as though they were partners, *equals*, in making Mr Giles better. It made her feel grown up.

He shook his head and said softly, “Fine.” He flinched and grabbed handfuls of the bedclothes when Megan touched a cloth to the burn. It looked like this was about to get nasty for him. 

“Do you have any moisturiser?”

“In the bathroom down the hall, by the sink.”

Holly retrieved what she needed from the surprisingly normal-looking bathroom. She took Mr Giles’s shoes and socks off and had him prop his feet on a pillow, then knelt at the foot of the bed. She did a few sequences to try to relax them both, and get him used to her hands on his feet, and then began working the pressure points for his solar plexus and back. She went gently at first, because nervousness was making her clumsy, and because those areas were probably very sensitive for him. When he didn’t protest, she felt a bit more confident, and increased the pressure. Doing this gave her something to focus on that wasn’t her own churning emotions, and she began to feel calmer as she got into it. She didn’t want to be making him feel worse right now; she’d already given him a hard time today.

After a while, she was snapped out of her trance by Megan asking him if he was all right. 

He nodded, and glanced down the bed to Holly. “Bugger me,” he said softly. “It works. Thank you.”

***

The coven’s kitchen had obviously been renovated not long ago. The appliances and cupboards looked new, though some of the jars and ornaments looked like antiques. The stone tiled floor was definitely original. Bunches of dried herbs and utensils hung from hooks in the walls.

Holly sat at the battered old oak table with a mug of hot chocolate and a turkey sandwich, trying not to think about what would happen if she ran away. Her arm was still throbbing, but she didn’t want to ask for any paracetamol.

The door opened, and Megan came in. She looked pretty tired herself.

“Still up?” said Megan. “Is there anything you need?”

She shook her head. That morning, Holly had woken to the smell of her mother cooking her father’s bacon, his weekend treat, and the sound of coffee brewing. Coffee was disgusting, but the sound and smell was comforting. For a few seconds, it was like her life was still normal. What she would give to be back in her own bed right now. But she wasn’t. She was on her own, and she had to grow up and be strong.

“Thank you for what you did for Giles,” said Megan. “We both really appreciate it. That’s a useful skill you’ve got.” 

“You’re welcome. Is he okay?” To her surprise, Holly found that she did actually care. Technically, he had been her first patient. Was this how Mum felt, when she’d helped someone feel better?

Megan sort-of smiled. “It’s as I said; he will be if he gives himself half a chance. She dropped a tea bag into a mug. “The idiot,” she said fondly. “What he needs,” she said, more to herself than to Holly, “is for things to be easier for a while.”

“Is he coming down?” 

“Not tonight. I’ve given him something to help him sleep.” She smiled as though they shared an understanding. “To *make* him sleep, actually.” 

Encouraged, Holly decided to ask Megan, then. “Is it okay if I call my parents?”

“If it was up to me, I’d say yes, but at the moment, with the First and all, I’m not sure. Have you asked Giles?”

Holly could feel tears coming, and she didn’t want to cry in front of Megan. Her first impulse was to lie, but she rejected it. “He said no. But this is the last chance I’m going to have to talk to them before we leave.”

Megan looked genuinely sympathetic. “If he said no, you can be sure he had a very good reason for it. He wouldn’t forbid it unless it was absolutely necessary.”

Holly got up and walked to the bow window, trying to compose herself. She couldn’t even see out into the darkness beyond, only her own reflection, trapped in the house.

Megan leaned against the counter. “You all right? Is there anything I can do?”

Holly forced herself to be polite. “No, thanks.” She took her jacket off the back of the chair. “I need to go outside.” 

“I’m afraid you have to stay inside. It’s not safe out there. Bringers.” Megan finished making her tea and sat at the table. “I understand you’ve already met a Bringer. How’s your arm?”

At the mention of it, Holly’s elbow throbbed fiercely. She’d been trying very hard not to think about it since it happened. “How did you know?”

“Giles mentioned there might be something wrong with it.” She gave Holly the same interrogative look she’d given Giles. Busted. “And the way you’ve been holding it. Mind if I take a look?”

Resigned, Holly dropped back into the chair and pushed up her sleeve. She showed Megan the scabby, blotchy place below her elbow, and explained how the Bringer had grabbed it and squeezed before blind panic had given her the strength to twist free. She didn’t want to think about it because that made her think about the attack, so she hadn’t told anyone about it, and had been hoping it would just go away, but it was still swollen and hurting a week later.

Megan examined it very gently. “Still painful, yes?”

Holly nodded. It did hurt, but there was something reassuring in the way Megan was handling her, and she didn’t pull away.

“You haven’t told anyone about it?”

She shook her head.

“You didn’t want to have to explain it to anyone, least of all a doctor.”

She nodded.

Megan smiled slightly, and let her go. “Following in Giles’s footsteps already. It’s a hairline fracture in the ulna, just here,” she indicated the spot on her own arm. “Would you like me to heal it for you?” 

Holly hesitated, remembering how Mr Giles had looked at some points this evening. “Will it hurt?”

“It might be a little uncomfortable, but it won’t be like Giles’s was, if that’s what’s worrying you. His injuries are much more extensive, and his energy reserves are very low. Being healed takes a lot out of the healer, who’s expending a great deal of their own energy to manipulate someone else’s; but it takes at least as much, if not more, out of the patient, who’s already in a weakened condition, but is having their energies hyper-stimulated in order to make the body heal much faster and more completely than would happen naturally.”

“So it *will* hurt,” said Holly.

Megan smiled. “Yes, but not much. If we leave it alone, your arm will heal naturally over a few weeks, but it’ll probably ache quite a lot of that time, and you’ll have to be very careful to avoid getting hurt in the same place, or else it’ll break properly.”

“Mr Giles said I don’t have any mystical energies,” said Holly, running out of excuses.

“Doesn’t matter.” Megan idly stirred her tea. “No pressure. It’s entirely up to you.”

Well, the throbbing in her arm was something she could do without, and who knew when she might need to get away from another Bringer? “Okay.”

“Sure?”

Holly nodded, and let Megan take her arm again. She winced as Megan squeezed in the exact same place the Bringer had done. 

“Sorry. Too much?” said Megan. “The pressure needs to be fairly firm.”

“It’s okay.”

Megan’s hands were warmer than Holly was expecting, and a very faint vibration seemed to be coming from them. Her arm throbbed more or less painfully for a while, and then the pain was completely gone. Salve was rubbed into the skin, and when Megan released Holly’s arm, it was whole again, and back to its normal size and colour. Only a few faint scars remained. “Thanks,” she said, flexing it experimentally. “That’s amazing.”

“You’re most welcome. It’s the least I could do, given the day you’ve had.”

Holly felt as though she could put her head down and go to sleep right there, but she still had questions. “Did you always know you could do this?”

“My mother could do it, hence she was attuned to the fact that I could do it, so I was aware of very early on. I remember the day I found out about it. It was shortly after my ninth birthday. Mum and I were out walking, and we found a sparrow with a broken wing. I was very upset that it was dying in so much pain. My mother suggested I hold the bird very gently, and try to direct my energies into it. She guided me through the whole process, and I healed it. It flew away.”

“You must have been really happy to’ve found out you could do that.”

Megan smiled. “No, I was absolutely bloody terrified. Completely freaked out. Sleepless nights, panic attacks, the works. Despite the fact that my mother had healing gifts, I didn’t understand what I had done, or how, or why I had this ability. It took my mother a long time to calm me down and get me to realise that what I had was a gift, and I didn’t need to be afraid of it.” 

Holly nodded.

“But, like yours, my gift had to be identified, and I had to accept it, and myself, and I had to allow myself to be trained in how to use it.”

“But what you have is *good*, it’s helping people. Mine is… fighting, or something. I don’t know.”

“There’s a lot more to it than that. Think of it this way; your gift offers you the opportunity to do some real good in the world, and you couldn’t have a better teacher than Giles. Buffy too, come to that.”

“You’ll find that some of the ways that you’re used to adults and young people interacting won’t always apply. Not to lay it on too thick, but you’re coming into an extremely serious situation. Any contribution you can make will be valued, and I don’t mean just fighting.” She stood up and patted Holly’s shoulder reassuringly. “Reflexology is good too, as is your intelligence and a sense of humour.”

Holly was too tired to think about it any more. Her eyes kept closing. Megan guided her back upstairs to her bedroom, where she slept without nightmares for the first time in a week.

***

The next morning, while Megan and Mr Giles were still in the kitchen having breakfast, Holly got her mobile out of her backpack and took it to the garden behind the house. She had to talk to Mum and Daddy one more time before she left the country and the phone wouldn’t work anymore. 

Holly started crying as soon as Mum picked up. Then Mum started crying too. After they’d cried for a few minutes, Mum had started trying to make her feel better with plans of what they’d do when she got back; shopping, trips to London, a holiday. Holly could hear her dad in the background, sending his love and asking a question.

Her mother sounded as if she was turned away from the phone. She said, “Oh, Jack, you *haven’t*.”

“What? What’s Daddy done?”

Her mother sighed. “Mr Giles gave us the details of your flight yesterday, but Daddy thinks he may have thrown them out with some papers. Can you ask Mr Giles for the flight number again, sweetheart?”

“I remember it. Virgin Atlantic, flight 223.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly Mr Giles was there, and the look on his face made her take a step back. 

“Give me the phone.”

Holly wasn’t ready to lose contact with her mother. She turned and walked away from him. He caught up with her, grabbed her wrist, and pried the mobile from her hand. She stared at him, speechless with shock and outrage.

He put the phone to his ear and listened for a moment, then snapped it shut, and put it in his coat pocket. His eyes met hers again, but this time she was too upset to do anything but meet his glare with her own.

“I have to make a call,” he said quietly. He turned and went back into the house. 

Holly wasn’t about to follow him in there, or anywhere.

***

It felt as though she’d been sitting on the wooden bridge a long time. According to her watch, if they were going to catch a plane at eleven thirty, they should almost be at Heathrow by now. She wondered why they weren’t. She was at the bottom of the hill, out of sight of the house, but not that hard to find. She wasn’t stupid enough to run away. She had almost no money, and she could only go home, or to Isabella’s, and he’d find her there in no time. There was nothing she could do but claim some time and space for herself. 

Last night he’d seemed nice, thanking her after she’d helped Megan, making her feel important, acting as though they liked her. She was such an idiot.

She felt the vibrations of his footsteps on the bridge, and didn’t turn to look. He came and stood next to her.

“I’m sorry I grabbed you. Is your arm all right?”

After a moment, she nodded. 

“Mind if I sit?”

Like she could stop him. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry about the phone.”

She wasn’t going to reply at first, but then she said, “I thought you wanted to catch the plane.”

“That flight has been cancelled.” 

He was still angry. Her face felt hot.

“There’s a very good chance that the voice on the phone was not your mother, but the First Evil.”

Holly stared at him. “What?” She would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the words, except he looked so serious it made the skin on the back of her neck prickle.

“If the First Evil was impersonating one or both of your parents, you’d just given it all the information it needed to kill us, and everyone on board that plane. So, I telephoned a contact at the Watcher’s Council, and had them make the necessary calls to get the flight cancelled. Better safe than sorry. We’ll catch a later flight, and the Council will inform your parents of the change in plan.”

Holly suddenly felt sick. “But I thought you said the First Evil could only speak through a dead person.”

He hesitated. “We’re really not sure.”

Holly sat there in stunned silence. Her parents could be dead. Some unfathomable, evil force wanted her dead. And her phone call could have killed hundreds of people. 

“Now do you see why I forbade you to make any calls?”

She nodded, speechless.

“My contact at the Council will be able to confirm that your parents are all right, and have them moved to a secure location where they’ll be safe. In any case, the First is highly unlikely to be interested in them, except insofar as they can be used to locate us.” He let that information sink in, then reached into his coat pocket, pulled out half a bar of Cadbury’s, and held it out to her. 

She broke off a row and chewed, barely tasting it.

“We’re staying here for a couple of days. Let the First shift its attention to something else before we travel.”

“I thought you had to go to China.”

He sighed. “It can be postponed for a few days. The potential isn’t in immediate danger. And,” he admitted, “I could use a bit of a rest. We can use the time to get better acquainted. I’m afraid we got off to a bit of a bad start.”

She nodded, and for a while neither of them said anything.

She had nothing to lose by asking. “Can I have my phone back? I won’t use it.” She could still reread texts from Mum and Isabella that had been saved on it. 

He looked at her for a moment, then reached into his coat, took out the phone, and handed it to her. 

She nodded her thanks, feeling her throat tighten again. “When can I go home?”

“Soon, I hope. But we need you now, Holly. Even though there’s no way you can fully understand it yet, you’re very, very important. You’ll just have to take my word for it. All right?”

She nodded. It seemed the thing to do.

“I’m going back up to the house, and I’d like you to come with me. I’m not taking any chances with the Bringers.” 

Though she really wanted to stay outside on her own, it didn’t seem like a good idea to argue right now. Holly stood up and turned to go up the hill, but he nodded the other way. Soon they came to an old half-timbered stable. 

Like up at the house, long, rough stone horse troughs planted with red geraniums sat outside the stable entrance. A wisteria branch twisted across the doorway, its blooms hanging down. The smell of hay and horse was very strong. The sounds of the animals snuffling and moving about in their stables was comforting. Holly tried not to breathe through her nose.

Giles stopped at one of the stalls and spoke softly. A second later, a soft white nose appeared over the little gate, sniffing at Mr Giles’s coat. “I’m afraid there’s no more chocolate,” he said, stroking the horse’s neck.

It was a big horse, but Holly’d seen her dad attend to bigger. She took a step closer, and the horse turned to look at her. It had gorgeous, gentle eyes. Suddenly she realised Giles was smiling, and it was because she was smiling. 

“What’s his name?”

“Orion. He’s twelve, like you.”

“Does he have a destiny, like me?” She hadn’t really meant to say that.

“If he does, he’s not telling.”

“I don’t blame him.” She hoped Orion wouldn’t ever have to see anything as ugly as she had seen.

Mr Giles smiled slightly. “Me neither.”

After a while they took Orion out to graze in the field, and walked back up the hill to the house. When they got inside, Mr Giles went upstairs and slept for the rest of the day.

***

Bath.

Holly would have liked to shop, but there was no point; her parents were sending money to the bank in California, and she had practically nothing now, and anyway it was pointless because she couldn’t stuff any more into her suitcase. So when Mr Giles suggested they go to the Roman Baths, she went along with it partly for want of anything better to do, but mostly because she didn’t want to make him angry again.

There were quite a few people around in the entrance hall; well dressed ladies going into lunch in the Pump Rooms, tourists. There were some bored-looking kids on school trips, too. What did they have to be miserable about? They could go home at the end of the day. She thought again about California. All those girls Mr Giles said were living in that house – would they like her? Would she like them? She knew she was going to be quiet and shy, and quiet, shy kids were never popular.

Giles handed Holly her ticket, and they went in.

She had to admit it was pretty cool. The bath was open to the sky, surrounded on all sides by big stone pillars. The water was a mossy greenish-blue, and steaming. She peered in, wondering how deep it was.

“Bath used to be called Aquae Sulis. It’s a common misconception that it was the Romans who gave it that name, but actually it was the Celts, who were here first. Their god, Sulis, was thought to have healing powers. They named the hot springs after her, in the hope that her powers would infuse the waters and cure the sick. Then, in the first century, the Romans took over and built a massive bath complex over the earlier site.”

Holly nodded politely. That was vaguely familiar. They’d studied the Romans at school two years ago, but couldn’t remember much.

An awkward silence followed, in which she had no idea what to say to him, and suspected he felt the same.

“The Romans called Sulis by the name ‘Minerva’,” he said at last. “Ironically, she was the goddess of both wisdom and war.”

Holly peered into the murky pool. It smelled funny. “It doesn’t look very clean.”

He shrugged. “You can drink the water, but it tastes like…” he stopped, and grinned. “Well, not very nice.”

“Like Romans?” His laughter made her laugh. 

“Yes, like Romans.”

From the depths of his coat, Mr Giles’s phone rang, and he wandered away, talking to someone called ‘Robson’. It was okay for *him* to talk on the phone. She felt a little of her old anger and embarrassment flare up, and carried on walking on her own, round the massive square bath, trying to picture what it would have been like to have actually bathed in there. She wondered if women had been allowed in, or if they were all sexist…

Someone grabbed her from behind, arms wrapping round her so hard she could barely breathe. The grip was so crushingly strong, so painful she knew immediately what it had to be. 

A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream almost before it had begun, She kicked backwards as hard as she could, but it didn’t seem to feel it. It held her so tightly it didn’t even look as though she was struggling. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she was feeling faint from trying to hyperventilate. 

Her feet weren’t on the ground, and it was taking her away from where people could see them towards a small chamber at the end of the corridor. 

Bright yellow streaks exploded behind Holly’s eyes, she twisted, kicking her leg out. It connected with one of the big stone pillars, and she pushed back as hard as she could, hoping it would fall over and she could scramble free that way, but suddenly they were falling.

She hit the water hard, gasping, choking. She didn’t know which way was up. Her clothes dragged her down. Panicked, she clawed in all directions until her hands broke the surface of the water. Her head followed and nothing in her life had ever felt so good as that breath. She gasped again as strong hands grabbed her, curled into her coat, and hurled her away, hard.

When she was able to right herself and start treading water, Holly became aware of the violent splashing going on a few feet away, and she stared in open-mouthed terror. Mr Giles was thrashing around, fighting a man dressed in black. He looked like a regular priest, except for the blank eye sockets. They were moving so fast and splashing so much it was very hard to tell who was winning, but it was obvious that Giles was fighting for his life.

Mr Giles must have knocked them into the water. 

He was doing it for her. She shouldn’t have wandered off.

He was fighting for his life.

He might lose.

There was nothing she could do.

Everyone was watching.

No one else knew what to do, either. The staff were all talking on their walkie-talkies, but none of them were going in. “*Help* him!” she screamed at the nearest ones.

“Which one?” said one of the guards.

“*Him!*” she pointed.

“Who is he, love?” 

Mr Giles almost but not completely ducked a huge punch to the face and fell backwards.

Why were they wasting time asking stupid questions? They weren’t going to help. It was holding Mr Giles underwater, and there was blood. He was going to die.

Holly had no idea what she was going to do as she swam out to them and pulled herself up onto the man’s back. She went for his eyes, like they’d told her to do in school, but there was nothing in the sockets. Sickened, all she could manage was to wrap her arms round his neck and try to pull him off balance; maybe that would give Mr Giles a chance to get away…

The man tensed suddenly. He stopped splashing and fell forwards. Holly let go and struck out at the water, trying to get out of reach, but she needn’t have worried. His body sank below the surface just as Mr Giles came up gasping. As the water ran off his face, it seemed as though cuts were opening all over it, and blood started mixing with the water, spreading over his skin.

Holly grabbed him, babbling. “Are you okay? Are you okay?” 

He nodded, sucking in huge breaths, “Are you?” 

“Yeah, b-but where is it now?”

He looked around, and finally ducked his head underwater. “It disappeared.”

“Yes, but you’re still here,” came a deep, calm voice. “Would you care to come out of there now, sir?”

A bunch of policemen were standing between the pillars on the side.

“Bugger,” said Mr Giles, under his breath. He wiped his face on the back of his hand and looked at Holly a bit more closely. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She nodded.

He cocked his head and gave her a hard stare. “Really?”

“*I’m* okay. *You’re* the one covered in blood.”

He glanced down at the back of his hand, and the pink-stained water between them. “So I am. It’s not all mine.” He helped her back to the edge, where two policemen grabbed her hands and lifted her right out of the pool. God, how embarrassing. Almost as bad as when her legs immediately gave way and she sat down with a bump, shaking again, and desperately hoping she wasn’t going to be sick. Someone muttered about ‘shock’ and put their police jacket round her. It was nice and warm and had lots of interesting pockets she didn’t dare explore in case she got in trouble.

She heard Giles saying no, no, he didn’t need the paramedics, he was fine, really, please don’t bother.

Several police officers tried to get her to tell them what happened, but something told her that would be a really bad idea, so she just shook her head and asked for a towel or something. 

A couple of members of the museum staff were murmuring about how much the other man had looked like Father Stephen from the Abbey, but of course it couldn’t have been him, because his wife had called her this morning, frantic that he’d not come home last night. 

After a few minutes Mr Giles came over and knelt beside her. “I’m afraid they’re insisting we go to the hospital to get checked out.” He lowered his voice. “Better that than the police station.”

She let him help her up. Her legs were a little steadier now, at least, they held her up this time, but she didn’t let go of his hand.

***

Holly fought the urge to take his hand again in the police car. They rode to the hospital in silence, and were taken straight into a treatment room where she refused to let them take her off to be looked at, because it would have meant she’d have had to let him out of her sight, and she really wasn’t ready to do that yet. 

Doctors and nurses fussed over her. Mr Giles was examined as much as he’d let them. He seemed to not want to take his shirt off; she supposed it was because he didn’t want to get asked about his scars. So he kept his shirt on, but the cuts on his lip and forehead were cleaned up and stitched. 

The police officers were all freaking out about the body disappearing, and since there was no other explanation, all they had to go on was how a man dressed as a priest had attacked Mr Giles’s daughter, and he’d rushed to her defence. Lots of people had seen it happen. As for the body, they’d have to wait for the bath to be drained.

The police and the doctors were all asking Mr Giles questions, and he was answering them with what were mostly lies, especially the ones about her. He seemed shocked, upset, not thinking clearly. The officer taking the statement was sympathetic, telling him to take his time, to just give as much detail as he could. He didn’t even stop to think about the answers he gave. He was a good liar, and it made her uncomfortable how easily he made things up.

The police said that if they had any more questions, they’d be in touch. It sounded like a threat. Then one of them handed Mr Giles a phone and said he had to call someone to pick them up. He sighed, and dialled.

***

Two police officers waited with them by the A&E entrance. Nurses had wrapped them in scratchy wool blankets, but their clothes were soaking underneath and Holly was still shivering. Mr Giles’s shirt was still covered in blood.

Megan pulled up in the SUV. She got out of the car, shook her head, and said, “My God, look at the two of you; you’re magnets for trouble.”

Giles looked sheepish, and Holly almost laughed. 

“We fell in the Baths,” said Holly.

“No kidding,” said Megan. 

“There was a bit more to it than that,” said Giles.

Megan held the door open for Holly, and gave her a long look. “You all right?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she jerked her thumb at Mr Giles. “He’s the one who got hurt.” 

“Yes, but you’re looking a bit green, love.”

“Of course she bloody is,” said Mr Giles, climbing into the back seat beside her. “She went to an historical landmark and got attacked by a bloody servant of the First Evil. I dare say you’d look a bit green too.”

“All right, you don’t have to bite my head off.”

He looked even more sheepish. “Sorry. I’m just…” he sighed heavily. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“You couldn’t help it,” Holly allowed. “The worst part was when it was fighting Mr Giles,” she told Megan. “I thought it was going to kill him.”

He dropped his eyes and did that thing where he laughed by exhaling through his nose. He was smiling. To her surprise, he really did look touched. “You can drop the ‘mister’. Just ‘Giles’ will do.”

Holly warmed inside, even as she shifted uncomfortably in her soaking clothes. Megan got into the car and started the engine.

Giles leaned towards Holly. “Put your seat belt on.” She did. “Oh,” he said. “Your parents are all right; they’re alive. That’s what Robson called to tell me, before you were attacked. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, but as the police and the doctors were assuming I was your dad, I didn’t want to complicate matters.”

God, the relief was incredible. She nodded. “Thanks. And thanks for saving me.”

He smiled, and squeezed her shoulder briefly. “Other way round, I think. If you hadn’t pulled him off balance, I wouldn’t have been able to get my arm free to get the crossbow out.”

“A *crossbow*?”

Giles reached into his coat and pulled out a tiny, but obviously powerful, crossbow. “It’s ruined now, of course,” he frowned. “The wood will warp and split. Still, it’s served its turn.”

“When you shot him, was that when it disappeared?”

Giles nodded.

“Why?”

“I’ve no idea. Probably a failsafe the First’s devised to keep a low profile.”

“A low profile when it’s not attacking people in broad daylight,” said Megan, weaving the big SUV in and out between parked cars, ambulances, and bollards. “What was it? A Bringer?” 

“Another Bringer,” Giles said tiredly. “Though this one was quite interesting; it seemed he’d only just begun the process of transforming into a demon, so he wasn’t quite up to full speed or strength. He was more of an animated corpse than anything.”

Holly swallowed hard, trying not to remember how it felt to be crushed against the priest’s soft body, how his hand had tasted when she’d tried to bite it, the bumpy, wrinkled skin of its eye sockets. 

“I’m not sure what happened to the body; whether it was disapparated from this dimension, or simply dissolved into the water.”

Holly suddenly felt very cold.

Megan glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Giles, I think that’s probably enough detail.”

Oh, no, please, not now. “Can we stop the car?” Holly blurted.

Megan hit the brakes, and as soon as the car stopped Holly ran for the nearest thicket. She waited until she was sure she wasn’t going to be sick again, and made her way back to the car shakily. 

“Sorry,” Giles said gently, holding out a wet handkerchief. 

Holly took it with a nod, and concentrated on making it back to the house without embarrassing herself any further.

***

Back at the house, they both had hot showers, and met back in the kitchen for hot drinks. Giles told Megan the whole story of what had happened. When he got to Holly’s part, he made it sound as though she was some kind of action hero. 

It pleased her, their praise, but she was stilly worrying, and it must have shown.

“What’s the matter?” Megan asked gently. “Well, apart from the obvious.”

Holly glanced at Giles, and, following her lead, so did Megan.

He put down his tea. “What is it?” 

“Did you lie to my parents?”

He blinked. “No. Why would I?”

Holly squirmed. “The way you were talking… in the hospital. All that stuff you said to the police, and the doctors.”

“About you?”

She nodded.

Giles smiled slightly. “Can you imagine what would have happened if I’d told them the truth? I met you yesterday. You’re a weapon in an eternal battle between good and evil. You have latent super-strength, and I’m taking you to California to be trained.” He put on a light, fake-innocent voice. “Is that all right, officer?”

Megan grinned. “When you put it like that, I don’t believe it either.”

“They’d have called my parents and sent you to jail.” She thought. “Or a mental hospital. Probably a mental hospital.”

Megan grinned. “More like.”

“Pretty much,” said Giles.

“But did you lie to my parents?”

“No. Everything I’ve told you, and your parents, is the absolute truth. However, there are lies we have to tell. The Council – you remember I told you about them?” 

Holly nodded.

“Well, over time they’ve created – forged, if you prefer – an assortment of documents and records designed to cover most contingencies; a visit to the hospital being one of them. These lies harm no one, and allow us to get on with what we have to do. I never have, and never will, lie to you, or your parents. All right? It’s crucial that you know that, and believe it.”

His eyes were locked on Holly’s and the feeling grew that he really was okay, better than okay, and though it was scary, he would protect her, and she could even protect him, a bit, maybe.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave immediately,” he said. “It’s too dangerous for us to stay. I’ll try to get us on a flight in the morning.”

Megan was shaking her head. “You’re more than welcome to stay, and I really think you *should*. No Bringer’s getting in here. The place is warded like mad, and,” she indicated his battered face, “you’ve gone and put yourself back again. I can’t even heal those for you; it would do more harm than good to draw on your energies again so soon.”

“I’m sorry,” Giles said quietly.

A look passed between them that Holly didn’t understand, but she did get that Giles wasn’t going to give in.

***

Sunnydale, California.

Holly got out of the taxi and stood on the grassy verge by the road while Giles got their stuff out of the boot and paid the driver. The house looked like the ones she’d seen on American tv shows. Square, with bushes, a porch, and a big lawn. 

He went to pick up her suitcase, but she got to it first. She knew he was sore, and tired. He’d slept almost the whole time on the plane. He needed things to be easier for a while. “It’s okay, I can do it.”

With a small smile, he let her, and together they walked up the path and climbed the stone steps to the porch. Loud voices and a shriek inside made her stop, almost sick with shyness. It wasn’t as though she’d ever been a huge hit with other kids, but at least at home she’d been able to retreat to her own house. 

Giles looked at her. “It’ll be fine. Honestly. I’ll be here.”

“You’re going to China.”

“Only for a couple of days.”

“Can I come with you?”

He smiled in that really nice way. “No, and after a day or two you won’t want to. Just give them a chance. Give yourself a chance, too.”

Suddenly someone yelled. “Hey, Giles is here with the new kid!” 

Giles gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Ready as you’ll ever be?”

Holly nodded and forced a smile, though she wished she could just turn around and get right back in the taxi.

And he opened the door.

 

End.


End file.
